At the bottom of this article is a 50-song playlist of Neil Young that spans his career from the late 1960’s and his Buffalo Springfield days clear through to his latest release from 2010. It is not in chronological order (more on that later). Let me tell you first why you need to:

1) know about Neil Young,

and, more importantly,

2) listen to his music.

Neil Young is more than just a singer-songwriter for me. There is an emotive stronghold wrapped around me when I listen to Neil; his music feels personal, and almost invasive. I do not claim to know everything about him. I do claim to be a fan that always liked him—and now loves him—and I want to share that with you. I have been listening to Neil’s entire studio catalogue for months now, methodically going through it, taking it a piece at a time, and researching where he was in his life at each album.

When I was in high school I bought Neil Young’s Freedom, specifically for “Rocking In The Free World”. I, of course, knew songs like “Heart of Gold” (which is easily among the top 20 sweetest songs ever written), but the many sides of Neil were still unknown to me. As I got older, I was completely taken by Buffalo Springfield and then CSNY and the powerful political messages of songs like “Ohio.” (It was at this time that I fell hopelessly for a song that has remained a building block of my musical DNA, “Helpless.” I remember the feeling it cast over me then, and how it still does today. It was inspirational yet sad, fragile yet powerful.)

I kept digging and discovered The Band, a brilliant group of musicians. In my life I don’t think I’ve had a more captivating or defining musical moment than when I watched Neil Young join The Band on stage to play “Helpless” during their infamous final concert, “The Last Waltz”, which was recorded by Martin Scorsese.

Then my buddy Mike told me to check out the song “Cortez the Killer.” The moment I heard that track and took in that sprawling musical saga of staggering genius was exactly when Neil Young became the heart and soul of my “sound” in music; a sound I would gauge all other artists by in one way or another.

Most recently among my journey through Neil’s catalogue I discovered how much influence he provided for grunge, a sound I related to strongly. It’s surreal to hear Neil’s affinity and exploration with distortion and dirty guitar riffs coupled with heavy drumming. I’m not one to adorn an entire movement on the shoulders of just one man; however, it is clear how heavy his influence was on the Seattle boys. It’s apparent that Neil’s reach was far and it was deep.

The hair on my arms will rise to this day when I hear the first few notes being hammered down on “My My, Hey Hey”; it truly is a song that encapsulates the lifeblood of rock & roll and delivers food for thought on the greats who disappeared early, from Elvis to Sid Vicious. It even ponders depression vs. death while maintaining that there is so much more to rock & roll than meets the eye and its spirit will never die. Allow me this one repeat; the song is prolific. (Here’s a clip of Neil performing “My My Hey Hey” at Farm Aid in the 80s, a concert for the benefit of the North American farmer, a cause close to Neil’s heart and consistent with a theme that runs throughout his career – his commitment to honoring and remembering where we come from and how we got here.)

I decided to make the first third of this mix the singer-songwriter pieces where it’s Neil and his harmonica or piano and some of his more cathartic releases. These songs are beautiful, often simple, and even more often saturated with powerful emotion. The songs cover issues ranging from the death of close friends to loneliness to heartbreak to love lost among. The beginning of this mix is highly introspective. The playlist then gravitates toward some of Neil’s more epic story-telling sagas, passing along the way through some heavy country, folk, and rockabilly influences. Ultimately we end up at the grittier, grungier, and heavier rock & roll cuts of his career.

My original list of songs topped 100. I have tried to make this list manageable, and I’ll take the criticism for not being able to “capture his genius” in a typical 20 song block. I’ll also take that as a testament to the sprawling half-century of masterpieces I had to whittle through.

Because that is what I’ve attempted to do: capture an almost fifty years worth of music and share them with you in hope that you will find some solace in knowing there are artists who do last a lifetime, who do make an impact beyond showing up at charity events with shades on, and who do have your heart’s best interest in mind. Throughout the whole mix, the overarching theme is the juxtaposition of simplicity and complexity in almost all of his work. I have grown to love Neil Young throughout the years but now more than ever I find sanctuary in his words. This mix pulls from nearly every one of his studio and live album releases.

So many of the songs you will hear on this playlist are told so intimately that you feel like you’re having a one on one personal conversation with “Shaky”, a nickname he earned from his less than perfect film projects where the camerawork can make you dizzy.

The thing that makes Neil Young hover above the common man, wearing a halo of guitar strings, is the sheer continuity of his art. Since the late 60’s until now Neil has stayed true to himself: unbiased and unforgiving in his sound. When speaking in terms of sheer volume, a career spanning almost fifty years and nearly as many albums, there will of course be moments less than noteworthy; however, on a whole, he has remained rock’s most honest man. Passionate and deeply personal; lonely and obscure. Able to capture a particular moment and say what’s on his mind in a semi-abstract yet straightforward way that captivates and holds onto your psyche with unforgettable strength.

In an interview that never made it to the intended documentary, Thom Yorke had this to say about Neil’s lyrical prowess: “Wherever Neil was at, in his life, he was laying it down, staying true to that and never worrying. A song like ‘The Needle and The Damage Done’ can only be written by a man who has something that must get out, something that comes out of you like a force of nature.”

Of course, there is always the issue of Neil’s voice. Some hate it and cannot get past it. Neil hated it himself and was shyer than Jim Morrison when he first started out. For me, it’s a beautiful voice. It is probably the world’s most notable high tenor and it can grow on you unlike no other. There is a frailty in his voice that seems to be summoned by the deepest of emotion and the sincerest of intention. A voice you could compare his to might be Bob Dylan’s, but I would argue that Neil cares more about the connection with his listener. He refuses to hide behind the curtain of misdirection or hidden meaning; it can be painfully obvious what is on Neil’s mind and how he’s navigating through those feelings. At times with Dylan one could only loosely interpret meaning and context, and although I realize there is something to be said about the art form of a brilliant lyricist leaving the choice of roads to walk down up to you, Neil seems to leave a larger trail of breadcrumbs to follow.

For me, and for my musical true North, Neil Young is my compass.

 

Additional notes for some of the tracks:

“Bound for Glory” – pure country goodness with a guest appearance from Waylon Jennings bringing it home.

“Coupe De Ville” – easily the best of the songs I was unaware of prior to this project. It’s smooth as silk with a brilliant guitar solo.

“The Painter” – such a lovely semi-abstract that is just so heartfelt; important to note this entire album is beautiful and was released in 2005, a comeback album of sorts and evidence that Neil is nowhere near washed up.

“After the Gold Rush” – arguably Neil’s voice at its best, lyrics at their most powerful, and the finest example of his piano songwriting skills that clearly inspired everyone from Elton John to Coldplay.

“Thrasher” – One of the greatest examples of Neil’s ability to tell a story through song as if he were reading the first chapter of a classic novel.

“Lotta Love” – One of the 70’s chart-topping hits, Nicolette Larson’s cover made this song famous. Neil played the rough edit for her in his car and then told her she could have it when she complimented it. Neil went on to record it later after she slam dunked it. (Co-Loser’s note: This is an all-time favorite of a Poploser co-founder, and one that reminds him fondly of car rides and top forty radio in his early youth in the late 70s. He gathers that roughly 1% of the world’s population of music listeners has any idea that this song was penned by Neil Young. – SPD)

“Pardon My Heart” – delightfully uplifting and peaceful melody, the first Crazy Horse release after the famed ‘Ditch Trilogy’ where Neil was admittedly suffering from insecurities and instabilities.

“I Am a Child” – masterfully written gem, an objective top down view of being a child and being an man and the ways they learn from each other respectively. Powerfully original and bold.

“Mr. Soul” – interesting to hear Neil back when he was with Buffalo Springfield. His rock/folk style with jagged guitar cuts essentially encapsulates the 60’s sound.

“Southern Man” – Neil expresses his views on Southern separatists and segregationists, which became the song that inspired the Sweet Home Alabama retort by Lynyrd Skynyrd, in which they bellow that they “hope Neil Young can remember, southern man don’t want him around anyhow”.

“Throw Your Hatred Down” – Neil Young backed by Mike McCready and Pearl Jam. Enough said.

 

Poploser proudly presents The Neil Young Project.

 

Long may you blare it.

 

This article was written by Annile Alexander and edited by Grant Moser